


014 Low

by Era_Penn



Series: 100 Faces of Tony Stark [14]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Counting, Depression, Gen, low point, numbers, time dilation, we are all ants in an uncaring universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-02
Updated: 2017-04-02
Packaged: 2018-10-13 21:58:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10522728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Era_Penn/pseuds/Era_Penn
Summary: He stares at the ceiling, high above. It stands stationary. It sits. It stares back. Blank. White.





	

He stares at the ceiling, high above. It stands stationary. It sits. It stares back. Blank. White.

“Jarvis,” the world rolls off his tongue, honey-sticky and syrup-slow.

“Yes, sir?”

It takes him a moment to decipher the quick reply. “Jarvis, we need. Paint. Paint. Nice color, not white. Note.”

“Yes, sir.” Jarvis is quieter now. Tony is glad of it. His head aches. The world is frozen around him. He can watch each individual tick of the clock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. The light seeping in his window does so drowsily. Falling with a shlump like a dead man into a river, rather than bouncing like a butterfly between flowers. A drop of water traces its slow, meandering path down the side of the glass of water Tony had resting beside his bed, untouched. He takes a sip, just to mess with the levels. There’s a 7 millimeter difference in the water when he puts it back. The water drop is traveling about three inches a second, and every second stretches before him like an eternity. He takes a breath and it seems he breathes in until every speck of oxygen in the world must be in his lungs before it is released on a breath like a sigh, a breath like a droplet of water falling.

The clock ticks on. Tick. Tock.

“Tony, come on, it’s almost eight! We have a meeting!”

Tony ponders on the words as Pepper pounds on his door. He counts the knocks. One… Two… Three…… Four………..

Can’t they see? Don’t they understand? The numbers drift through his brain like fog on a moor, the world barely spins, physics hardly seem to apply. 

It’s just….

So….

Tedious….


End file.
